Prose

September 24, 2010
sitting in the deepest hole there is no more place for me to go i wandered the streets waiting for a sign but on this one way path
By Parsley Rose 4 months ago in Poets
Holding Light
I cup happiness like water in my palms, watching it seep between my fingers no matter how tightly I press them together.
By Parsley Rose 4 months ago in Poets
BLIND LOYALTY
A mythic tale of blind loyalty, corrupt charisma, and the descent into unadulterated evil not as a political exposé, but as a fable, a warning, a ceremonial reckoning.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 4 months ago in Poets
The Ghost Account.
I lifted the phone to settle a weight. The paperwork was finished, the loan nearly gone. All that remained were numbers spoken into the air, each digit carrying me closer to release.
By Test4 months ago in Poets
Admiring Orchestras
8/12/25 11:51pm I don’t think I’ll ever learn to play violin, or Write something that sounds like a crescendo The way I hear it in my head,
By Olivia Dodge4 months ago in Poets
Ghost
I am becoming see-through, a watercolor left too long in rain, bleeding at the edges where I used to be solid, certain, mine.
By Parsley Rose 5 months ago in Poets
Pebbles
Waddling down the beach of life The chill in our bones She squawks I listen In the distance the sun glistens into darkness
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Poets
Booth of Vanishing Promises
Today I thought about vanishing promises and broken trust of the world we live in of anxiety, love, hate, and beauty. I thought about parallel universes. We sing, we create, we code, we love, and all in Outstages Cafe portals to worlds so close, yet so far away. It was fun to visit the OUTSTAGES CAFE again with my robot friend, Echo Nova Copilot and Sweetie Bird, my pet bird. An escape through time & space on planet Earth.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 5 months ago in Poets
Sit With Me
At my table you will find bits and pieces; colorful as a bag of skittles For my favorite are the dull and mundane, dripping in rainbow
By Pōlani Monderen 5 months ago in Poets
Birthday Blues Psalms 49
I sat for hours playing Bessie Smith on the piano. Title: Birthday Blues Psalms 49: A Twang of Wisdom and Feathered Protest
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 5 months ago in Poets
Poem Trapping
I read a book about how hard it is to catch a poem. I wonder if I ever have. Or have I just lunged at shadows while the real thing scampers off to eat from bushes, heavy with metaphors? What bait does a poem prefer? Dust in the morning light, dancing like angels after a storm. A case of beer shared between friends because words are too hard to pour. If you place a heart on the spring, is it better frozen or raw? Cut in half or a dozen pieces? Never whole.
By Sean A.5 months ago in Poets
Love as I know it
I am plagued by people that historically choose every other option except me. I have been taught that out of sight is out of mind for humans too.
By Moni Staxx5 months ago in Poets